You could say that very first illegal immigrant to cross an international border into Southern California was a man from New York.

He was Jedediah Smith, the first American to come over land to the Inland Empire and the rest of Mexican California. For his vagabond spirit, Smith was arrested, tossed into jail, almost hanged and ordered out of the country. Hardly discouraged, he showed up again a year later and the same thing happened.

It’s been 188 years since he first crossed the San Bernardino Mountains and dropped into our little piece of the world, which was then the northern portion of Mexico.

On Upland’s “Madonna of the Trail,” statue, Smith is recognized for his two pioneering trips through the region en route to San Gabriel Mission. (Of course, one wonders why he is even mentioned on a monument honoring pioneer women, none of whom reached California with him.)

Smith was a member of that early 19th century breed of wanderers known as mountain men. Rugged individuals from the United States and Canada and even beyond, these were trappers who explored deep into the West, much preferring their own company to civilization and content with making their own rules.

“People out in the frontier then were simply not interested in the laws of Mexico,” said Dr. William F. King, author and retired history professor at Mt. San Antonio College. “Think of a bunch of Harley-Davidson riders today. Both groups like the wind in their hair and no one telling them what to do.”

In 1826, Smith led a group of trappers from northern Utah to the Colorado River near today’s Needles, where Indians welcomed them and gave them directions to Mission San Gabriel.

They crossed the San Bernardinos east of Cajon Pass and made their way to the mission where these pioneering tourists were welcomed, for a while. But when Mexican Gov. Jose Maria Echeandia heard about their arrival, he treated them like an unexpected visit by a unpopular relative. Smith was immediately ordered to San Diego and tossed in jail.

Echeandia suspected Smith’s contingent were spies but had no real proof. American sea captains later did vouch for Smith, and he was finally allowed to return to his party at San Gabriel. But the governor made it clear they were to leave immediately, retracing their route from the river.

Smith dutifully obeyed, briefly. He did cross the San Bernardinos, but immediately veered west to the foothills of the western Sierra Nevada where he left some of his trappers. He crossed the Sierra at Ebbett’s Pass, the first American to do so, and returned to Utah.

He set off again for California in 1827 but this time was treated much like an illegal alien at the border. The Indians he met a year before had been warned by Mexican authorities not to assist him and instead attacked. Almost half his group of 19 was killed and most of his equipment and animals was lost.

Smith and the rest of his party struggled across the Mojave, going over Cajon Pass and reaching San Gabriel Mission, this time in real need for assistance. The welcome mat was still not out for Smith, who was not surprisingly put behind bars.

Pleading that he had lost his provisions and half his party, Smith convinced authorities to help him get out of Alta California.

And, as was his practice, Smith said one thing and did just the opposite. He went to the Central Valley again, getting into more hot water when he ran into authorities in San Jose where he managed to talk his way out of being hanged. He finally left California, though not as ordered, but by way of Oregon.

King said Smith may not have followed the established rules of the day, but he was a remarkable man and a natural leader. He carried a Bible in his saddlebag and was fearless — a scar on his face from a grizzly bear attested to that.

“He started out as a very young man but among the trappers his leadership skills really came out and even in his early 20s, they would follow him,” said King.

All his trading and trapping — and regularly escaping authorities — actually resulted in him making a tidy fortune and Smith even briefly tried to settle down in more-civilized St. Louis. But the call of the frontier was too strong, and in 1831, he headed west again only to be killed by Indians in western Kansas.

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